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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534918" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Boston Ballad, 1854</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">TO get betimes in Boston town, I rose this morning early;<br> Here's a good place at the corner--I must stand and see the show.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Clear the way there, Jonathan!<br> Way for the President's marshal! Way for the government cannon!<br> Way for the Federal foot and dragoons--and the apparitions copiously<br> tumbling.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I love to look on the stars and stripes--I hope the fifes will play<br> Yankee Doodle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> How bright shine the cutlasses of the foremost troops!<br> Every man holds his revolver, marching stiff through Boston town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> A fog follows--antiques of the same come limping,<br> Some appear wooden-legged, and some appear bandaged and bloodless. 10</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Why this is indeed a show! It has called the dead out of the earth!<br> The old grave-yards of the hills have hurried to see!<br> Phantoms! phantoms countless by flank and rear!<br> Cock'd hats of mothy mould! crutches made of mist!<br> Arms in slings! old men leaning on young men's shoulders!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> What troubles you, Yankee phantoms? What is all this chattering of<br> bare gums?<br> Does the ague convulse your limbs? Do you mistake your crutches for<br> fire-locks, and level them?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> If you blind your eyes with tears, you will not see the President's<br> marshal;<br> If you groan such groans, you might balk the government cannon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For shame, old maniacs! Bring down those toss'd arms, and let your<br> white hair be;   20<br> Here gape your great grand-sons--their wives gaze at them from the<br> windows,<br> See how well dress'd--see how orderly they conduct themselves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Worse and worse! Can't you stand it? Are you retreating?<br> Is this hour with the living too dead for you?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Retreat then! Pell-mell!<br> To your graves! Back! back to the hills, old limpers!<br> I do not think you belong here, anyhow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> But there is one thing that belongs here--shall I tell you what it<br> is, gentlemen of Boston?<br> I will whisper it to the Mayor--he shall send a committee to England;<br> They shall get a grant from the Parliament, go with a cart to the<br> royal vault--haste!   30</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Dig out King George's coffin, unwrap him quick from the grave-<br> clothes, box up his bones for a journey;<br> Find a swift Yankee clipper--here is freight for you, black-bellied<br> clipper,<br> Up with your anchor! shake out your sails! steer straight toward<br> Boston bay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Now call for the President's marshal again, bring out the government<br> cannon,<br> Fetch home the roarers from Congress, make another procession, guard<br> it with foot and dragoons.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> This centre-piece for them:<br> Look! all orderly citizens--look from the windows, women!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The committee open the box, set up the regal ribs, glue those that<br> will not stay,<br> Clap the skull on top of the ribs, and clap a crown on top of the<br> skull.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> You have got your revenge, old buster! The crown is come to its own,<br> and more than its own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Stick your hands in your pockets, Jonathan--you are a made man from<br> this day;    40<br> You are mighty cute--and here is one of your bargains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Walt+Whitman">Walt Whitman</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534918" data-title="A Boston Ballad, 1854 de Walt Whitman" data-description="TO get betimes in Boston town, I rose this morning early;
 Here's a good place at the corner--I must stand and see the show.

 Clear the way there, Jonathan!
 Way for the President's marshal! Way for the government cannon!
 Way for the Federal foo..."></div>
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